Pickled Onion Paradise

    theguardian

My Pickled Onion Paradise – Why the Pickled Life chose me It's time to show the world exact;y what theyre missing out on...

  Sophie Robbins
  The Guardian, Monday 8th October 2013 14:19 BST

 

 
Everybody has that one embarassing fetish that they choose to keep quiet. I am choosing now, a good enough time as ever, to go on a rampage about mine. Pickled Onions.
None of my friends, nor my family seem to understand, they seem to come to the conlusion that pickled onions taste like "crap" and "make them want to be sick" (not true). Their opinion is invalid because there is nothing nicer than the taste of a freshly bought jar of pickled onions.

There's no particular story or reason behind why I love them so much, I've often tried asking my mum when and why the obsession started, but she just explains that ever since I was around 2, I always took a strange craving to them and have been that way ever since. You're probably thinking why? Why pickled onions? Why would anybody take a liking to pickled onions? 1 - because the abnormal vinigar taste is almost impossible to handle, and 2- they make your breath smell so awful, you're almost unapproachable. The answer to that question honestly is - I don't know. I didn't choose pickled onions, pickled onions chose me.

Roughly, a new pot of pickled onions come home at least 3 times a week (not enough). Once is when my mum does the Tesco order, another is my mums regular pop to Morrison's and the third is often when I'm peckish coming home from college. Sadly, they are generally gone within the next few days, along with my happiness. As weird as it may seem, there is nothing which excites me more than peering into my kitchen cupboard and finding a jar of untouched pickled onions. Often, when I was younger I would never be able to open the jar on my own and often had to ask for my dads help, so there was often a limit of how many pickled onions I could sneak, because he would always have to often and close the jar for me (annoying). However, during the recent years, I have doubled in strength thankfully, and I can now snack on my own terms and engoulge as many silver-skinned beauties as I please.

The slimey texture, the eye/mouth watering sting which takes my breath away. I suppose you could say that my slight obsession is a tad out of hand, along with the 67% of households who also eat them, (although I doubt their love for them is as passionate as mine.)